The Renegade

Skylar has a gift.
A gift for words, for language.
The only beautiful thing she knows.
She wants to love her gift
Like an old broken toy
She does not want it.
Not anymore.
Not when it is mended, mended again.
Only to tear further.
Only for tears to further fall.
Over and over, it betrays her.
Crushing, pounding her spirit.
Knowing all, but not knowing why.
Fighting for her life, fighting her mind.
In her wake, she wishes for sleep.
But in her wake, she is safe
Can you hear it? Hear her plea?
Screaming, whispering.
Help me, help me please!
No one saw, no one heard.
No one knows.
Therefore.
Her pain did not exist.